


Truce

by Guanin



Series: Antipodal Shadows [11]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 00:17:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2792885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guanin/pseuds/Guanin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Oswald ask Harvey for help in their fight against Maroni, forcing Harvey to come to terms with Oswald.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truce

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos!

"Harvey, I need your help," Jim said after Harvey answered his cell phone.

Not the kind of call that Harvey wanted to get while enjoying a well deserved drink at the bar after a day of hard work. 

"What's wrong?" he asked Jim, hand going for his wallet in case he needed to pay in a hurry. "Is it life or death?"

"Yeah, but not right this second. I'm currently fine. Kind of. It's a long story. Too long to say over the phone. What I'm calling to ask about right now is whether I can crash on your couch tonight. My apartment is being watched."

"What? By who?"

Harvey left a ten dollar bill on the counter and started making his way out to the exit.

"Maroni. Are you home? Can I come over?"

Oh, fuck, what had the dunce done now?

"Of course. I'm heading home now. It'll take me about ten minutes to get there."

"Great. I'll meet you there. Uh, listen. Can Oswald come, too?"

What?!

"What? Why? Did he piss off Maroni?"

"Yeah. That's part of the long story. He's not staying the night. It's just for a couple of hours. Please. I would really appreciate it."

Oh, Jesus, what clusterfuck had Jim gotten himself into now?

“Alright, he can come over,” Harvey said, regretting the words almost as soon as they came out of his mouth.

Why did Cobblepot have such a firm hold over Jim? Why? Harvey couldn’t figure it out. The multiple life savings, sure, that would ingratiate a guy to anyone, but then there was every other thing about the man. Surely Jim could see past his charm and his innocent seeming smile and the good manners to the rotten core within. Or not. Maybe Jim was just a sucker for a pretty face, because there they were standing, right before his building’s front door, Cobblepot leaning against Jim, arms wrapped around each other’s backs like they were a couple. Were they a couple? Oh God, they were a couple?!

No.

Dear God in Heaven no.

They disentangled themselves from each other when they spotted Harvey, which he was incredibly thankful for, because hell no, he did not want to see that. His entire world view was imploding right now. When he had told Jim that Cobblepot was in love with him, the hoped for, sane reaction was for Jim to put some distance between them, not for Jim to jump into his pants. What the fuck? 

“What is this?” Harvey asked, pointing between them. “Why are you two all over each other?”

“We’re together,” Jim said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for the most obnoxiously honest cop he had ever met to be all cuddly with a criminal. “Could you please delay your outrage until we’re inside?”

“Sure. I don’t want all the neighbors to hear about what an idiot you are.”

Cobblepot shot him a dirty look, but Jim would be mad at the little shit if he hurt Harvey, so Cobblepot would just have to suck it up. Jim insisted that they take the elevator despite Harvey's apartment being only one floor up because Cobblepot’s leg was hurting. He was limping rather badly today, more than Harvey had seen before. Jim stood on Oswald’s right side on the ride up, placing his hand on Cobblepot’s back to lend him some support. Had Maroni beat him? Harvey doubted that Cobblepot’s leg had just woken up iffy this morning. None of them spoke a word until Harvey opened his apartment door, let them in, and shut it behind them. Then he turned to the pair standing in his living room.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked. 

“Maroni found out that Oswald is a snitch for Falcone,” Jim said. 

The fuck?

“What? You’re working for Falcone?” Harvey asked Cobblepot. “He ordered us to end you. How did that happen?”

“I made a deal with him. I knew that Jim is an honest man who would loathe to murder anyone, so I begged Falcone to give Jim the order to kill me. If he spared me, I would spy for Falcone within Maroni’s organization. The potential benefits outweighed the costs, so Falcone agreed. He didn’t care whether Jim killed me or not.”

“Then what was that whole shootout at the precinct about? Was that all playacting?”

“Essentially. It would have appeared odd for Falcone to do nothing. And I’m pretty sure that he was instigated by Fish Mooney. She wants me dead. And I know things about her that she would dread Falcone to know.”

“So that suicidal escapade to Falcone’s house that Jim and I did? I might as well have stayed home, huh? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Falcone was never after you, no. But Fish might have killed you. She wanted so badly to kill someone. It was a wise decision on your part to stick with Jim.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I like Jim.”

“He asked Falcone to spare me,” Jim said, “as a favor for his good service. Falcone agreed. You were with me at the mansion, so Falcone pardoned us both, as it were. Fish couldn’t touch you then without going against his orders.”

So, Harvey was only alive because he was attached to Cobblepot’s honey bunny. Brilliant. 

“That’s why,” Jim continued, “Falcone wouldn’t give me a straight answer when I asked him what the catch was. There wasn’t any.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Harvey said. “I would say that Cobblepot is a pretty big catch, no offense.”

He smiled sardonically at Cobblepot, who returned the gesture. 

“None taken, detective, although I must say, your gratitude is somewhat lacking.”

“It wasn’t me you wanted to save. I was a coincidence.”

“True. But a happy coincidence. I may not have cared at the time whether you lived or died, but I’m glad you lived. Because you’re a good friend to Jim. You helped me save him. I’m eternally grateful for that. And now we need your help again.”

Cobblepot had lost his hostile edge, nothing but sincerity and humility in his voice. Harvey couldn’t be sure whether he was playing at anything at all. 

“You don’t have to,” Jim said, “if you feel it’s too dangerous. Because it is.”

“Maroni is coming after you, is he?”

They told him the story, or part of it. Harvey suspected edited bits here and there, especially where Maroni interrogated them about their relationship. Dear God, it was a proper relationship now. They had all sat down by this point, Harvey on his easy chair and Jim and Cobblepot on the couch, sitting so close that their arms brushed against each other, like they needed to touch at all times. They got together over the holidays, they said. Maroni spied it out and used their loyalty to each other against them. Cobblepot loved Jim, that Harvey already knew, but the devotion with which Jim regarded Cobblepot, that was new to him. Had Jim fallen for him, too? It looked like he had. And he had it bad. Damn it, Jim. How did he even get into these situations? Did he intentionally want to make life difficult for himself? Was he just not happy unless vicious killers wanted him dead? 

“And you guys want to bring Maroni down?” Harvey asked them after they said everything they were willing to. “And you want to enlist me in this crazy crusade?”

“Pretty much,” Jim said. 

He was sitting forward, leaning on his knees, hands rubbing together, but his right thigh was pressed against Cobblepot’s. Cobblepot was sitting back, body leaning to the left to let his right leg stretch out a little more. His left hand was hidden behind Jim, probably on his back. They weren’t being at all shy with their affections. Although, they had just been terrorized into fearing that the other would die today. One didn’t have to wonder why they sought tangible proof that this wasn’t the case. 

“For the record,” Harvey said, “I would just like to state that you two are certifiable. I should be checking you into the loony bin right now.”

“It’s not crazier than trying to arrest Falcone.”

“No, but that was a choice between certain death and more certain death. At least, we thought it was. Who knew that your guardian angel was watching out for you? This is possible death versus who the fuck knows. Maybe not certain death. Although probably, overwhelming probably, certain death.”

“It’s certain death even if we do nothing,” Cobblepot said. “Maroni will only keep me alive for as long as I’m useful. The same goes for Jim. Maroni might as well have stamped an expiration date on our foreheads today, and I cannot allow that threat to stand unchallenged. If I do, I’ll be perceived as weak and I will lose all the respect that I worked so hard to build. Then our lives will be forfeit. We must cut off the head of the viper before it can strike again.”

Damn him for coming up with sensible logic.

“But it’s not only one viper you’re dealing with here,” Harvey said. “It’s Maroni and Falcone. You think Falcone’s just going to let you become his new rival without having anything to say about it?”

“Haven’t you heard the rumors around town, detective? Falcone’s head is up for the chopping block. His subordinates are piranhas swarming to gobble him up.”

“We can exploit that,” Jim said. “And there’s a legal angle we can take, too, you know there is.”

“What there isn’t is someone in the DA’s office willing to listen to a word you say.”

“There might be. I’m an honest cop. Well, I used to be an honest cop.”

Cobblepot removed his hand from Jim’s back, lowering his eyes, his expression pinched. Jim immediately sat back and grabbed his hand, holding it on Cobblepot’s lap. Harvey frowned at them. Cobblepot felt guilty about compromising Jim? Wouldn’t Cobblepot want to corrupt Jim for his own gain? 

“There might be an honest ADA,” Jim continued. “It’s worth looking into.”

“Fine,” Harvey said. Obviously, his entire argument was a lost cause. “You do that. You better come up with more than that, though, because if that’s your whole plan, you’re cooked and I’m getting plucked right along with you.”

“You don’t have to be involved if you don’t want to. It’s not like last time.”

“I’m your partner, Jim. I’m already involved. I give a shit whether you live or die. You really think I’m going to turn you away with a nice knowing you, I’ll say something flattering at your funeral? Not that you would get a funeral. It’d be the river for you two. You’re here. You told me this whole crazy spiel. I’m in.”

He should demand extra benefits from the captain for saddling him with Jim as a partner. Babysitting a guy with a death wish was not in his contract. 

“Thank you,” Jim said. “I, we, really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

So it turned out that Cobblepot was staying the night. Something to do with how there was no elevator in his building and his leg hurt too much to take the stairs and his apartment was being watched, too, so perhaps it would be safer for all involved if Maroni assumed that Jim and Cobblepot were staying together at a hotel or something rather than wonder where Jim had spent the night. A lot of what ifs and assumptions were made. The two of them probably just didn’t want to be separated tonight. They agreed that Cobblepot would take the couch and Jim the easy chair. But when Harvey got up at two in the morning because he couldn’t sleep with all these new death scenarios giving him nightmares, he found Jim nestled into the couch, back pressed into the cushions as far in as he could go, an empty space in front of him, as if he was waiting for someone. That someone was currently in the kitchen rubbing at his cufflinks with a damp wash towel. He glanced up from his work when Harvey entered, looking as battered as the raggedy towel.

“Good evening, Bullock,” he said, voice tired.

“I think it’s a little late for evening. Or early.”

“You’re right. I’ll say good morning, then.”

He placed the cufflink on the counter and picked up its twin, rubbing at that one, too.

“Maroni’s men tapped me to my chair,” Cobblepot said. “The tape went right over my cufflinks. They still have glue stuck to them. These were a present. I will not have them ruined by thugs who don’t deserve to live.”

“Do you let Jim hear you talk that way?”

“Jim sees the best part of me. The only good I have to give. I never wanted him to see this.”

“Kinda short sighted of you, don’t you think?”

“Yes. I have been most foolish in not anticipating what is now, clearly, an inevitable outcome.”

“Did Jim give you these?”

Cobblepot stopped cleaning for a second.

“Yes,” he said, frowning at Harvey.

“I heard Jim talking to a guy at work about cufflinks before Christmas. I figured they were for you. Didn’t know they were a couple’s gift, though.”

“You don’t like that we’re together.”

“Nope. I would say that you’re bad for him, but this whole day proves that that goes without saying.”

Cobblepot put the towel down and stared at the cufflink in his hand, turning it around so it would catch the light. 

“You’re right. I am bad for him. Jim should have stayed away from me.”

Huh?

“But I insisted and now I don’t want to be apart from him and he doesn’t want to be apart from me, so we will march on together for as long as he wants me at his side.”

“I get that he cares a lot about you," Harvey said. "I’m afraid that he’s not thinking clearly because of you.”

“Maroni and Falcone must be eliminated.”

“You get no argument from me. But that man lying in there is the most decent guy I've ever met. He’s been driving me up the fucking wall since day one, but I respect his integrity and you are destroying it.”

“And you think that doesn't bother me?”

“It’s what you want, isn’t it? Jim may have only seen the good in you before today, but all I have seen is the bad. You’re duplicitous, selfish, and you’ll sweet talk anyone into doing anything to get your way. You wanted Jim to be your friend so you could have your own, personal cop in the department dancing to your strings. Corrupting him was your endgame.”

“It’s not anymore. I love Jim.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. I saw the way you looked at him in the hospital. How you looked at him tonight. But you can love someone and still ruin who they are.”

“I hate what I’ve done to him. What I’m going to have to continue doing to him to keep him safe. I’ve never regretted anything in my life as much as this. I love Jim more than my own life. If Maroni would accept my life in exchange for his, I would give it gladly. I would not hesitate.”

“You have a flair for the dramatic, too, I remember that,” Harvey said, although Cobblepot had never sounded so sincere before.

“You are goading me. I am not a suspect in your interrogation room.”

“No, you’re the criminal who is going to get my partner killed.”

Cobblepot glowered at him, shoulders shaking, eyes so cold that Harvey started reassessing how much protection being Jim’s partner gave him. 

“So I have a flair for the dramatic, do I?” Cobblepot said in an undertone, reaching inside his pant pocket. “Alright. I’ll be dramatic.”

He pulled out a folding knife and Harvey braced himself, but Cobblepot held it out to him, still closed.

“Take it,” he said. 

“Why?”

“Just take it.”

Okay. Here he was, taking it. Cobblepot grabbed his wrist. Not good. 

“What the hell, Cobblepot?”

Cobblepot pulled Harvey’s hand up to his neck, pressing the knife handle to his throat.

“If our plan fails,” Cobblepot said, staring straight into Harvey’s eyes, “and Jim dies, I want you to open this knife and stab it right here, sever my jugular, and let me bleed out, because my life will be worthless without Jim.” 

Harvey yanked his hand free, the knife slipping from his weakened fingers. He gaped at Cobblepot in shock. 

“Was that still too dramatic for you?” Cobblepot asked, face harder than stone. “Believe me or not. I don’t give a fuck.”

He picked up his cufflinks.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” he continued, striding past Harvey, “Jim expects my company on the couch.”

Harvey stared after him, then at the knife on the floor. What the hell had just happened?

`````````  
Jim awoke with a strand of Oswald’s hair in his mouth. He shifted his head back to draw it out, then kissed Oswald’s head, enjoying the pleasant feel of his body nestled against his.

“Are you awake?” he whispered.

“No,” Oswald murmured, voice heavy with sleep.

Jim caressed his hip in apology. His hand had slid inside Oswald’s shirt at some point during the night, wrapping around his waist. His very soft, warm waist, connected to an equally warm torso and an even warmer bum nudging against Jim’s pelvis, and… Oh, crap. He was hard. On Harvey’s couch. With Harvey in the apartment.

“I can feel that,” Oswald said cheerfully, rubbing himself against Jim’s cock.

Jim gasped, muffing his breath with his upper arm. 

“Harvey’s home.”

“Screw him.”

“Oswald.”

Oswald quit pressing himself against Jim. 

“Sorry.” 

“I heard you two fighting last night. What was that about?”

Jim hadn’t been able to make much out, except for his name, but it was obvious what they had been arguing over. Harvey had never liked Oswald and Oswald returned the sentiment. 

“He was warning me off you,” Oswald said.

Of course he was. Harvey never let up about about Oswald being bad for him. He wasn’t wrong, but what was done was done. They wanted to be with each other. That was all that mattered.

“It’s nothing,” Oswald continued. “I don’t care what he says. Only what you say.”

Unzipping his fly, Oswald grabbed Jim’s hand and slid it inside his underwear. Jim let him, wrapping his fingers around Oswald’s member, stroking it to hardness pretty quickly. Well, if Harvey had had sex with a prostitute on Jim and Barbara’s bed, he couldn’t complain about a handjob. 

A door opened behind them, making them both freeze. Steps on the corridor, then another door shut. The bathroom. Harvey had gone into the bathroom. Good. Jim started stroking again, movement languid, listening for that potential activity that might give them a little more time. Yes! Running shower water. That should give them about ten minutes. Here was hoping that Harvey was a slow shower taker. Jim raised his hand, to Oswald’s immediate protest.

“What are you doing? Why are you stopping?”

“Let me climb over you,” Jim said, disentangling himself from the blanket.

“Why?” Oswald asked, but he stayed down while Jim hoped over him onto the floor.

“So I can attend to you properly.”

Pushing the blanket off Oswald’s hips, Jim grabbed him by the base of his cock and sucked him into his mouth. Oswald inhaled a sharp breath, hips pushing up, driving into Jim’s mouth too far back into his throat. Jim coughed, firmly pushing Oswald’s hips down.

“Sorry,” Oswald said, so apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Jim took him into his mouth again, swallowing him as far in as he would go, praying that he was doing this right. He’d gotten a little practice during their Christmas holiday, but he really wanted to step up his game to give Oswald as much pleasure as possible. He caressed Oswald’s balls, trying to time his motion with his sucking, but that wasn’t working out very well. Still, Oswald’s hips were shivering under his hands. That was a good sign. Jim glanced up at his face, thrilled when he saw Oswald covering his mouth with his hand, his eyes closed, face slack with pleasure. Jim slipped a hand between Oswald’s legs, drawing a keen from him. Jim immediately snatched his hand back.

“Don’t you dare stop again,” Oswald hissed.

“You’re too loud.”

“He can’t hear me.”

“You want to bet on that?”

“Alright. I’ll be quiet. Can you please get on with it, please?”

Chuckling, Jim licked the tip of Oswald’s member, taking his sweet time with it. Oswald stuffed the blanket into his mouth, covering it with both hands. Jim got back to work, sliding his hand back between Oswald’s legs to gently stroke his hole, two fingers skimming along the rim, drawing the most delicious shivers from him. Oswald came not soon after, hips jerking against Jim’s hand. Jim swallowed, waiting until Oswald started to soften to lift his head. The shower was still running. Perfect. He kissed Oswald’s hip before removing the blanket from Oswald’s mouth. He looked delightfully debauched, sprawled out half naked on the couch, gazing at Jim like he was his everything. Jim supposed he was. It wasn’t a responsibility he took lightly.

“Let me do you now,” Oswald said, cupping the front of Jim’s erection.

Jim groaned at the pleasure spiking in his body from that simple touch, but he grabbed Oswald’s wrist, tugging him away.

“There isn’t time,” he said. “Harvey’s going to get out of the shower any second now.”

“But I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Jim kissed him while tucking Oswald back into his pants, ignoring the discomfort between his legs. He could jerk off in the bathroom after Harvey got out. He’d just have to sneak past him with his jacket held in front of him or something. Oswald sat up as Jim stood to sit back on the couch when Oswald grabbed his waist and pulled Jim’s pant zipper down. 

“Oswald,” Jim said, suppressing a sigh. 

“I want to.”

Jim touched his wrists, but Oswald swatted his hands away, so Jim raised them in surrender. He didn’t really want to stop Oswald, but if Harvey caught them, Jim might never be able to look him in the eye again. The shower was still running. For now. 

Oswald swallowed him and now it was Jim who was being too loud. He buried the rest of his cry into his palm, holding onto Oswald’s shoulder to keep himself steady. Oswald sucked him hard and fast, wrapping one arm around Jim’s hips while caressing the base of Jim’s cock with his other hand. Jim was so lost in the marvelous pleasure coursing through every cell in his body that he missed when the shower turned off, hearing only the bathroom door opening. 

Shit! 

He pushed against Oswald’s shoulder. Oswald turned around, looking toward the corridor while Jim dove for the couch, hiding behind it, cheeks burning with embarrassment as much as frustration. He knew they hadn’t had enough time. 

_Please don’t come into the living room, Harvey. Please please please._

Harvey’s bedroom door opened and shut. Thank God. 

Oswald slid onto the floor, pulling away the blanket that Jim had hurriedly yanked up to his neck.

“What are you doing?” Jim whispered.

“Finishing.”

Oswald gave him no more time to protest before he took Jim into his mouth again. This man was going to be the death of him. Well, fuck it. If he was going to die, which was very likely, he was going to enjoy the wonderful warmth of Oswald’s mouth for a little longer. He lied back, hand pressed back over his mouth, listening carefully for the sound of Harvey’s door as he lost himself in the sweet heat of Oswald’s tongue. Oswald made him come quickly. He stretched his head back, riding out his orgasm in Oswald’s mouth, hand tangling in his hair. Every bit of him felt drained yet rejuvenated, the terror of the previous day fading as he pulled Oswald up to him and kissed him soundly, fierce determination taking its place. He would do almost anything for Oswald. He probably wouldn’t even regret it. 

Harvey left his room a little while later, footsteps extra loud on the floor. Uh oh.

“Are you two decent?” he called out.

“Yeah,” Jim said, tapping Oswald’s shoulder.

While Jim was recovering, Oswald had nestled himself between his legs and stretched atop him, his head lying on Jim’s chest. Now he refused to move, ignoring Jim’s prodding. Instead, he wrapped his arms even tighter around Jim. Either he was feeling extra affectionate this morning or Harvey had really angered him last night. Harvey entered the room, peering over the couch at them, looking immensely dubious.

“Did you have sex on my couch?” he asked.

Jim blanched.

“No,” he said, pushing at Oswald’s shoulders a little harder. Of course, Oswald continued to grasp him like he was attached by suction cups. 

“You’re lying to me, aren’t you? I heard sex sounds. Don’t deny it.”

Crap. 

“I’m sorry, Harv.”

“Ah, hell.” Harvey turned away, covering his face with his hand with a grimace. “I need a new couch.”

“Well, you had sex on my bed.”

“He what?” Oswald said, finally sitting up, face agape with disgust and outrage.

“Not that bed,” Jim rushed to reassure him. “Barbara’s bed.”

“Oh.” Oswald relaxed, then he frowned at Harvey. “Why would you have sex on his bed?”

“Oh, don’t you sound so appalled,” Harvey said. “You had sex on my couch.”

“It was a natural turn of events.”

“Yeah, so was what I did. Sort of. Look, I thought Falcone was going to kill me and Jim was pissing me off, so I just—Actually, why am I explaining myself to you? I don’t care what you think.”

“Yes. I am very aware of that.”

“Guys, stop!” Jim said, standing between them, hands held up to hold them back, because he really might have to in a minute. “You don’t like each other. I get it. But would you please try to get along for my sake?” 

Harvey and Oswald glared at each other for a moment longer, then Harvey nodded grimly.

“Fine by me,” he said.

“Same,” Oswald said, sitting back on the couch.

“Thank you,” Jim said. “Now, I’m going to the bathroom. Are you going to get into another fight if I leave you alone?”

“No,” Oswald said, smiling at Jim. “Don’t worry, Jim. We’ll be good.”

Jim turned to Harvey, who nodded. 

“Alright,” he said and left the room, praying that they weren’t lying to him.

```````````  
Oswald stood up, straightening out his clothes while ignoring Bullock’s presence all together. The man irritated him, so it was preferable to pretend that he wasn’t there. 

“Cobblepot.”

Oswald’s fingers tensed on his shirt buttons. What did the cursed man want now?

“We promised Jim that we wouldn’t fight,” Oswald said, continuing to button his shirt.

“I’m not going to start a fight. I want to return this.”

Bullock held out Oswald’s knife, a surprising lack of hostility in his face. 

“And to say,” he continued, “that I believe you. I believe you were telling me the truth last night.”

Oh. Well, that was a welcome development. Completely unexpected, but definitely welcome. Perhaps Oswald should stop fantasizing about punching him now. He took the knife, nodding at Bullock. 

“Thank you,” he said.

He slipped the knife inside his pant pocket. They stood awkwardly for a moment.

“Just one more little question,” Bullock said. “Did you have sex on my couch to spite me?”

Oswald gave him his most devious smile.

“Partly.”

“I knew it.”

```````  
“Everything all right in here?” Jim asked as he re-entered the living room. Oswald was sitting on the couch watching the morning news, looking rather not angry, unlike when Jim had left. Huh. 

“We didn’t kill each other,” Harvey called out from the kitchen.

“We’re fine,” Oswald said, getting up to go to the bathroom, giving Jim a quick peck on the lips.

“Okay,” Jim said, frowning at Oswald’s departing figure. “Great. Thanks.”

He went into the kitchen, where Harvey was making a pot of coffee. 

“Did I miss something?” Jim asked.

“You said you didn’t want us to fight. We didn’t.”

“Alright. It’s just, the room has a completely different vibe from when I left. Oswald stopped looking like he wants to kill you. It’s a little sudden.”

And weird.

“We came to an understanding. Let’s put it that way.”

Harvey hadn’t looked him in the eye for longer than a second this whole time, standing in front of the coffee machine despite being done with filling it. Clearly, Jim had missed something big.

“So you’re not going to talk my ear off about how I shouldn’t be with him?” Jim asked.

“Nah, man. Your sex life is your business. For the record, I still think you’re an idiot, but that man really does love you. And you’re doomed already, anyhow. Backing out now won’t change anything.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that. Does this have anything to do with the fight you two had last night?”

Harvey stiffened. He frowned at Jim.

“You heard that?” he asked. 

“I couldn’t make anything out except for my name.”

“Oh. Good. It’s best that way, trust me. It got ugly. The important thing is, we’re going to stop going for each other’s throats. Or I am. I can’t speak for your boyfriend. He’s the vindictive type. You did make it clear to him that I’m off limits as far as any payback is concerned, right?”

Jim rolled his eyes.

“He won’t hurt you.”

“Just asking.”


End file.
